Regrets and a Hope for the Future
by DragonsStories
Summary: Set six years after the end of Inheritance. Arya did not realise the depth of her feelings for Eragon until it was too late. She and Firnen are now trapped in an endless world of darkness that threatens to consume them. Only one hope presents a chance for salvation. Can they find the strength to leave it all behind and live the lives they were meant to have? More detail in a/n note


**A/N: Hello everyone. This is only my second FanFic and the first I have written for the Inheritance Series. I was terribly disappointed with the end of Inheritance and I had wished for so much more. Afterwards, my mind raced with so many ideas of what I wished had happened. This story is only one of them. It has taken me a long time to build up the nerve to pen this down and post it. For right now, this will be a stand-alone chapter. I have a plot laid out for how to continue it but I would like to see what feedback I get from this first. If you hate it, please tell me so. If you love it please tell me so. I do not want to write more for this story if there is no interest in it seeing as I am also writing another Fic at this time. But if you like the beginning and would like to read more, tell me and I will continue it. I would like to of course. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work and my rambling notes. I truly hope you enjoy the story. There will be spoilers if you have not finished the series. For now the story will solely focus on Arya and Fírnen. It is about their journey. But if you like it and I continue this it will later incorporate Eragon and Saphira of course as well as Murtagh and Thorn and a few OCs of mine. They are mentioned in this chapter but will have chapters of their own form their respective POVs as well. Again I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle or any of its characters. Everything from the series belongs to the brilliant mind of Christopher Paolini. The first few lines of this story are a rough paraphrase from the last two pages of his book. I only claim this original plot and any OCs I write. **

. . .

"Arya" he said, staring down the winding silver river then back to her. "Stay with me-"

"I cannot."

"…stay with me until the first curve in the river." He continued. She hesitated slightly then nodded her head. Together they made their way onto the ship, the other elves close behind. They swayed together for a few stolen moments as the moonlight played off the river in a dazzling scene. Then Eragon opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say anything Arya placed three of her fingers across his lips and raised one arm above her head.

"Farewell, Eragon Shadeslayer," she said in a whisper. Then Fírnen came down from above and swept her of the deck of the ship."

"Farewell Arya," Eragon whispered to himself, as the flaps of Fírnen's wings steadily fell away.

. . .

Arya awoke with a start, he body drenched in sweat. She was shaking and tears were streaming down her face leaving shimmering tracks as they fell. Her sobbing was rapid and uncontrollable. It had been a dream. One of many of the same dream she had experienced since the night Eragon and Saphira had left. _Farewell Arya…_the voice echoed in her soul.

"My dear one, are you alright?" It was the deep, calming voice of Fírnen, the partner of her heart and mind. Though he spoke to her through their mental link, she heard a low rumble from where he had been asleep in the other end of her room, curled atop a massive olive green cushion. He was stirring now, he was restless.

"Yes Fírnen, I am alright. It was dream. That is all." She said with a shaky voice.

"It was the same dream you continue to have. I caught glimpses of it. A dream of that night…" It was hard to lie to someone who was quite literally linked to your mind, who shared every emotion and felt every feeling. Fírnen had made more of a statement rather than a question and she knew it was pointless to try and hide the truth.

"Yes, it was a dream of that night." She eventually replied.

That night had been over six years ago and still it haunted her. She was tormented by the loss of Eragon. She had not realized until the moment Fírnen flew her away the exact depth of her feelings for him. She had come close to turning back and sailing away with him into unknown lands, but duty had compelled her not to; she was Queen of the Älfakyn. Every moment of every day she regretted how she had left things between them. It was better for both of them however, that she had not made more of their parting. It would have only made the loss more unbearable. She had wanted to tell Eragon so many things that night but had refrained.

She could feel Fírnen pulling away from her consciousness slightly, allowing her the privacy to think and to grieve. She knew that he too, wanted space to think of his loss that night.

Arya rose from her bed, brushing her hair away from her face. She knew from experience that she would not be able to return to sleep that night. _How can I continue to live this way? _She thought. She was hardly sleeping, her slender frame had diminished even more and her spirit had lost its vibrancy. The demands from her people following the defeat of Galbatorix had been taxing enough, but now the demands of her heart were wearing away what little of her was left. Even the love of Fírnen could not wash away the pain of her grief.

What made the situation worse was that in the years following Eragon's departure, she had only heard from him once. He had sent her a letter sometime later to provide her with an update on his doings. He and Saphira had found a suitable place to raise the new order of riders. She did not know its whereabouts, and Eragon had informed her that, at the time of his letter, they had yet to name the new land. He had said that it was a good place to bring up the next generation but that there was much work to be done to make it suitable. He and the elves had been hard at work clearing the land and building the structures.

In a return to his old youthful excitement, Eragon had informed her and that Saphira and Fírnen had produced and egg together. Saphira had chosen not to bond it to the order of the riders however, for several reasons of which he did not enclose. The egg had hatched and had grown into a beautiful young female dragon. Eragon described her as being the color of the tide as it rolls in; a deep blue-green. "She is a beautiful mix of both Fírnen and Saphira," he had said. "…and her name is I'lrae. I am still amazed at her beauty and the wonder of her birth." Arya realized that she had missed his wide-eyed amazement and excitement to the world most of all. It had once been a trait that she used to reject Eragon, saying he was too young and naïve. Now she did not care, she really had never cared. In that time she knew it was best not to allow Eragon's affections for her to distract him from the war. But once the war was over, she did not know how to let go of the ruse until it was too late.

The news of I'lrae had thrilled both Arya and Fírnen tremendously, but when the surprise had worn off they were both left saddened at the thought of never meeting her of watching her grow_. "Just think Fírnen, there is yet another free dragon in the lands, and it is your daughter!" _She had said to him, in hopes of cheering his mood. Ever since Saphira's departure, Fírnen had fallen into a state of depression. The news of his offspring had only worsened it. Together, the elf and dragon made for a very disheartened pair.

Eragon had also written to Arya a bit about how he and the elves were adjusting to their new lives. He mentioned little of the new home of the riders and asked not of news from Alegasia or herself. This had hurt Arya deeply and she suspected it was because of how she left him on that moonlit night. He obviously was not wanting a reply her but she had written a letter of response back to him regardless. She had enchanted the letter to fly across the land and sea, only stopping when it found Eragon. To her dismay, she never received a return reply. She knew not if the letter had ever made it to him, if he had received it but was too busy to reply, or if something terrible had occurred. He was alive, of that she was sure, for if he had died Arya knew that her heart would tell her. But in the time following his silence, Arya was sure that she had ruined the friendship she held most dear, aside from Fírnen. This too meant that there was no hope of ever building more than a friendship with Eragon. She had hurt him beyond repair, and now he was so far away that she may never see him again, and he will never think of her again. She would never have the chance to tell him how she really feels. _How could I have been so stupid, _Arya thought, _what have I done?_

Fírnen let loose a long, mournful keen that filled the night air with the lament of a dragon. Arya joined him by allowing the tears she had been restraining to fall freely now. Her world had been crying for six years. Its beauty and music had been lost long ago, replaced by an endless, all-consuming darkness and pain. The only music that drifted through the recesses of her mind now were those of lamenting. She walked over to where he was laying and crawled into the crook of his neck. She cried fiercely and he wrapped his head around to engulf her in his presence.

"Firnen, I cannot go on like this. I am afraid that if I stay here I will die." She sobbed harshly.

"Dear one, what of our duty here?"

"My people can elect a new ruler. I should have never accepted the throne. Besides, do we not have a duty to the Riders as well? Are we not sworn to follow the responsibilities of that ancient pact? We are one of the last three pairs of Riders in Alegasia; that makes it our duty to train up the new young ones."

"I admit that I have been unhappy here for a long time. My heart and duty is elsewhere, my wings only wish to take me there." Fírnen said depressingly.

"And do we not have a duty to our hearts as well Fírnen? Are we to deny ourselves the life we were meant to have, in which duty and happiness can exist together?"

"In that case Arya, I believe that we should deny ourselves no longer." With that he roared with booming intensity. Arya smiled as Fírnen unleashed his forgotten joy. It was the first time she had smiled in six years, and it was the first time she had felt hope since that night.

**A/N: Thank you so very much again for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please, please, please, tell me what you thought of my story in a review. Be honest! I can take criticism. Like I said, if there is enough interest I will continue it so if you liked it please review. I hope to hear from you and perhaps I will have more to come. Thank you again.**

**Yours Truly, DragonsStories **


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